Where The Hell Did My Fish Go?
Well, most of the stories I have posted so far end with a big fish in the net. In an ideal world, that's all fishing would be. Well, it's not that world. This is a tale of the "fish that got away." I was just fishing Boulder Creek, and it was looking pretty good. I had just gotten up to one of my favorite holes for the first time of the day. I put a cast in, let it take a nice drift, and watched as my dry fly went under. Something had taken my nymph. So, I set the hook. Nothing. So I put in my next cast, hoping the fish would come back. The rig drifted, than the water exploded as something ate my dry fly. I set the hook again, and this time it was fish on. I fought the fish for quite a while, because he was in strong water and the fish was pretty big. I called for my friend to bring a net and grab the fish. He came up, and I worked the fish into a nice little pool. My friend hopped in and tried to net the fish, but something happened. I don't know if the hook bent, the fish's mouth gave way, or if it was something else. The line went dead, my friend pulled up the net, but with no fish to be found. I swore under my breath, and because this was during a camp I was teaching, I spent a little time doing a lesson on how to net the fish. We'll get the next one.